


First Impressions

by thephantomrunner



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, M/M, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 17:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18855916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thephantomrunner/pseuds/thephantomrunner
Summary: To Brian, first impressions were everything. He always thought of them as an instinctive feature, they could hint at whatever was up with that person.His curly hair most definitely did not leave the best impression- or so he believedOrBrian is insecure about what Freddie will think of his curly hair





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, thanks for clicking on my story! I got this prompt from a blog on tumblr (@/bohemian-rhapsody-slash) and it manifested into this mess of a fanfic. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

First impressions were important. They dictated how you were perceived and depending on how the first encounter went, it dictated the rest of the relationship. It could dictate if you got along with the person, or if they would even want to see you again. 

To Brian, first impressions were everything. He always thought of them as an instinctive feature, they could hint at whatever was up with that person. His first impressions of Roger were semi-accurate; he had thought him calm and intelligent. Intelligent, he was- but calm he was not. However, he had picked up that he was a calculating drummer who cared deeply for his craft. He wasn’t sure what kind of impression he himself left on people, but he did everything in his power to make sure it was positive. And his curly hair most definitely did not leave the best impression- or so he believed. They were wild, untamable and a big fucking mess. In all honesty, flat ironing them is a whole other hell he puts himself through daily, but the outcome is what makes the daunting process beyond worth it. It made the burns on his ears, neck and scalp seem insignificant and he was willing to overlook all of the pain for the outcome..

When Tim had first seen him without his straightened hair, he didn’t think much of it; they weren’t in front of crowds and Tim was his mate. He made no comment, and Brian tended to put less energy into his hair when he was only with Tim, Roger or any of his other close friends from uni. In fact, Roger had made fun of him for straightening it in the first place- now, Roger made fun of him when his hair was straightened. He laughed at his part, the amount of time he spent in the bathroom, when the humidity would cause the ends to curl- anything that could be teased, Roger would bring it up. Tim would even join in, but Brian couldn’t bring himself to care. Despite the hours that went into it, or when the rain would destroy it, it helped him blend in where his curls did not. That being said, whenever they had a gig or were auditioning someone, he made a point to spend an extra hour frying his hair with the heated machine. 

Roger had not told him that he had invited his friend, Freddie, to their gig. Luckily, Brian was ever prepared. Brian knew who Freddie was, but he had never actually met him in person. He knew that he and Roger had a business of sorts in Kensington and that Roger had absolutely nothing but positive things to say about the other man. He didn’t know farther than that he was a design student who begged Roger daily to perform with him sometimes. Either way, Brian was not expecting him to look like he had and he most certainly was not expecting to feel the attraction and instant need for perfection on his part. 

The gig itself had gone perfectly fine, as was expected. The crowd screamed for the music, cried for Roger and listened to his solo’s with a zealous fascination. Afterwards, however, was when Roger introduced him to Freddie and he believed that absolutely nothing could’ve prepared him for it. 

“Brian, you remember my mate Freddie?” Roger had said, tugging the other man behind him. 

First, breath failed to fill Brian’s lungs causing him to intake one more breath and for the rest to cease. Then, he felt his heart begin to palpitate, which was rather concerning. He found himself blinking rapidly, his mouth was searching for words that his brain would not give. Instead, he settled on a smile that was more of a grimace than with the charm he was hoping it would hold. 

He was immediately enamoured with the lush exterior and decadence that seemed to radiate off of him. His appearance was otherworldly, but it took a backseat compared to the air of confidence and warmth that he was emmeting. This was Brian’s first impression of Freddie. 

His next thought was how soft his jet colored hair looked as it struggled to meet his shoulders. When he had the courage to look further, he was met with a pair of warm brown eyes that caused his heartbeat to become even more irregular- if that was possible. He was so entranced and quite possibly in love, that he completely forgot about the impression he was giving. 

He was well aware of how dumb he probably looked, standing there with his mouth agape and his unfocused gaze. He nervously ran a hand through his hair, cursing at how he felt the ends were beginning to curl. He shifted on his feet, offering his right hand in a sort of greeting. 

“I’m Brian,” he muttered, hating how different and awkward his voice sounded. 

Freddie’s eyes crinkled into a smile, glowing softly. His lips curled back slightly and he brought up his wrist, covering his mouth, like he was covering a sneeze. Brian said nothing, finding the gesture endearing though it mildly confused him. 

Freddie’s hand encased his own in a firm grip, “I know. Roger talks about you all the time,” Brian shot Roger an annoyed glance, to which he responded by blowing him a kiss from behind Freddie. “Only good things, don’t worry, my dear,” Freddie tacked on quickly, he looked down this time as a smile graced his lips and god, it would be a damn lie to say it wasn’t one of the most endearing things Brian had seen. 

“I love your music.” Freddie said when he looked up again, this time his smile wasn’t hidden. 

Brian loved his smile. 

“Thank you- I’ve heard from Roger that you sing a bit yourself,” he was hoping that his brain would allow him to have a conversation with this beautiful, confident man. 

“Oh, I suppose I do a little-” 

“Stop being modest! He’s amazing,h is range is insane.” Roger interjected

“Your range is insane, dear,” Freddie said

“I know,” Roger smirked, pushing his shoulders back a bit at the compliment before announcing “I should go find Tim- I’ll be back” Brian wanted to interject, to not leave him alone with Freddie. He knew he would say something awkward or weird. He didn’t usually have a problem with talking to people, he could come up with witty conversation, and he could easily say his bit when he had to. He wasn’t an extrovert by any means, but he could hold an intelligent conversation with substance. 

Right now he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. 

So as his brain tried to come up with an easy conversation starter, to say absolutely anything to get Freddie engaged in a dialogue of sorts, his mouth had formed the words: “You have a lovely smile,” 

He had never wanted to crawl into a dark hole more. He felt his face heat up, as he tried to stumble through an apology. His brain wouldn’t come up with one. 

Meanwhile, Freddie’s body language hadn’t changed but his face was a million shades deeper. Nobody ever complimented his smile; that was the one thing they always thought could use changes. He beamed at Brian in response stating, “Thank you darling. I don’t hear that too often.” 

Brian finally blurted out his broken apology the same time Freddie said “I like your hair,” 

His hand immediately flew to his hair which the humidity of the environment was starting to attack. Luckily it was still straight and the strands were still lying closely to his scalp. He wasn’t sure if this was a compliment or a passive aggressive comment, but he found his lungs were still refusing to provide him with air. He was getting so wrapped up in the fact that he forgot to thank Freddie. What a horrible first impression. 

What Freddie said next surprised him to no end: 

 

“Can I buy you a drink?” His smile was full, leaving all of his teeth on display- Brian thought he might faint then and there. 

Freddie had left a good impression, and he was absolutely and undeniably falling in love with this man that he’d just met. 

•••

It wouldn’t turn on. 

He could have thrown the thing against the wall as it sat on the counter, looking perfectly intact, while it refused to turn on. 

He was standing in his bathroom, his hair still damp from when he washed it only an hour ago, turning the useless piece of metal in his hand, desperately trying to get it to heat up. 

Freddie was supposed to be here in a few hours for their date of sorts but his fucking flat iron wouldn’t turn on. He felt the despair wash over him as he tossed it back on to the counter with defeat. He winced at the loud crashing sound it made as it fell onto the surface. 

Whatever the nature of their relationship was, it was still fresh and if this went badly, Freddie might never want to see him again. 

To say he was freaking out would be a gross understatement. 

He burst out of the bathroom in a frenzy, slipping his bathrobe on, not even bothering to pull his clothes on- he was having mixed feelings about those too. 

“Rog!” He called, throwing a pair of pants onto the floor. He wasn’t sure exactly where Roger was, but he assumed it was somewhere lazing on the sofa. He was starting to lose his wits as his hair dried and began to become frizzy. There was no way he was going to go on a date with Freddie fucking Bulsara with his hair looking the way it did. When he received an aggravated groan from Roger, he continued. “Can you set up the iron for me?” 

“The what?” Realizing he wasn’t going to get anywhere calling from his room, he half-sprinted to where Roger was. He leaned against the doorframe, “The iron!” He exclaimed 

“Do we even have one of those?” Roger seemed compliantly disinterested, flipping the page of the magazine and Brian rolled his eyes. Roger was the one who had invested in an iron, insisting that their clothes for their gigs had to be perfect and pressed; Brian didn’t disagree. 

Instead of waiting for Roger to move and help him, he walked over himself and pulled the machine out of the closet himself. 

“You want me to iron your clothes?” Roger remained uninterested, not removing his eyes from his magazine. 

“No, I need you to iron my hair.” He set the iron on the counter and went to pull out the board. 

“You want me to…” Roger finally looked up, his eyes setting on the iron. “Brain, what the fuck?” 

Brian stopped rustling and met Roger’s gaze. “I have a date with Freddie in an hour. My flat iron is broken.... it won’t turn on. My hair is a mess and I need to fix it,” Brian explained as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“Brian, I’m not straightening your hair with a bloody clothes iron.” Roger finally put his magazine down, looking up at him in amused disbelief “Just wear it like that. It looks fine. Nice, even” 

“There is absolutely nothing nice about this,” he reached up and tugged on one of his curls. He already knew that Freddie was going to show up, looking perfect while his own outfit would be bland and uninspired and his hair would look like a fucking shrub. 

What happened next caused Brian’s face to fall and his entire body to tense while it made Roger’s lips curl into a smile. The universe was not playing in his favor today. Maybe he should take it as a sign for this relationship he desperately wanted. 

Someone was at the door. And it was probably Freddie. 

“I’ll get the door, you go get dressed. I’m surprised he’s so early- he’s usually “fashionably late”- as he puts it anyway, for almost everything” his smirk deepened as he took the iron out of Brian’s hands “probably wanted to leave a good impression,” he turned around, walking to the front door. Brian made a b-line back to his room, forcing himself to think rationally about the situation. He was supposed to be the rational one, the one to calm Roger down as he threw away half his wardrobe or to help Tim as he tried to scrape up some extra money to impress some girl. Yet here he was, ready to cut off all of his hair because Freddie was in the living room and his flat iron was broken. 

He quickly threw on his pants and his shirt, no longer worried about looking too plain; his mind was focused on his hair. 

He could hear Freddie and Roger talking, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

After about 15 minutes, he heard Roger call for him to hurry up. In all honesty, Brian wasn’t sure what would make a worse impression, keeping Freddie waiting or leaving his room with his hair in the state it was in. In those 15 minutes that he was keeping Freddie waiting, he had tried brushing his hair (which he knew was a bad idea, but he was desperate). He ended up with a frizzy mess, the bristles of the brush causing it to stick up in places it hadn’t before. He had looked like a cat who had been electrically shocked, so he had to rewash it. What he had before was better than now. He towel dried his hair in defeat. Had he been Roger he would’ve thrown the unreliable piece of metal against the wall, hoping it would shatter. Instead, he settled for glaring at it as it sat, broken on his bathroom sink. 

He tugged at the ends of his curls, taking a breath as he stared at his reflection in the mirror; he didn’t have to like it, just accept it. And if he was being completely honest, it didn’t look as bad as he thought it would. The water had tamed it slightly, causing the friz to dissipate and the spirals to curl together. 

Freddie had been so incredibly open with him when they had hung out in the past. He’d been open about his heritage, his family and even the smile that Brian had complimented when they had first met. And it’s not that Brian has not been open with Freddie, he just assumed that he’d like the other version of himself. The version with perfect, normal hair. 

The clock ticked eerily in the corner, signifying that another five minutes had passed. He heard Roger call out for him to hurry up again, and he knew he was right. He was making everything worse by making Freddie wait. He took a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He opened his door and quickly stepped out of it before he could lose his nerve. 

When he reached where they were, he noticed how wildly out of place Freddie looked sitting on the edge of the ratty sofa. He looked absolutely stunning and if Brian thought about it any longer he would drive himself mad. God, this man made him doubt things he had never doubted before. 

When Freddie saw him, his eyes lit up and he immediately got up from his spot on the sofa. He walked over to where Brian was standing in the doorframe. 

“It took you long enough,” Freddie remarked at the same time Roger announced “Fucking finally!” Both of their comments made Brian turn red partially from embarrassment and the other part being annoyance.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” 

“It’s alright- I haven’t got any reservations of sorts and you know I can’t drive. So we can walk- we’ve got plenty of time,” Freddie looked up at the taller man, studying his face with a smile. 

“What?” Brian whispered, almost mesmerized by Freddie’s gaze. He forgot about the state of his hair as his worry shifted to if anything was on his face. Freddie was moving very close to him, his eyes flicked over to where Roger was seated, grateful that the man had gotten lost in his magazine again. 

“I like your hair,” Freddie said, reaching up to pull on a spiral before planting a kiss on Brian’s cheek. 

“Really?” Brian’s cheeks were stained with pink, he couldn’t help but feel that Freddie was trying to make him feel better. “I thought you’d prefer it if it were straight,” 

“Bri, nobody under the sun thinks your straightened hair looks better,” Roger didn’t look at him- he was doing his best to seem uninterested in his friends romantic life. Perhaps he was failing miserably. 

“Straightened, curly, neon green- none at all- I’d still love you,” Freddie said simply, grabbing Brian’s hand and leading him to the door.

God, if Brian said that he wasn’t falling deeper and deeper in love with this man, it would be a damn lie.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading- Let me know what you thought!!


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